


life's imperfections.

by katified



Series: new design. [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), F/M, Gen, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Pre-Relationship, Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, also it's a prequel one-shot, reading the chaptered fic of this series isn't necessary, this might be a little messy but i wanted to practice writing michelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 15:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20260504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katified/pseuds/katified
Summary: Michelle doesn't expect anyone to care, so it doesn't bother her when no one comes to pick her up after the Academic Decathlon team arrives home from Washington DC; however, it comes as a pleasant surprise when Peter and May offer her a ride home.





	life's imperfections.

**Author's Note:**

> Or: May Parker is awesome and will take care of all the kids.

It didn’t surprise her.

When the Academic Decathlon team arrived home after Nationals, parents and guardians swarmed the students, bombarding them with hugs and questions and reassurances; several team members nearly died, after all, which naturally caused concern. Michelle watched from the sidelines, glancing between the other students and her phone. And the unanswered texts staring back at her.

It didn’t surprise her. So it definitely didn’t bother her.

> **[text to: Mom]** Hey, guess whose team won Nationals.
> 
> **[text to: Mom]** Will you be home tonight?
> 
> **[text to: Mom]** I don’t know if you saw the news, but I’m fine.
> 
> **[text to: Mom]** Everyone else is fine too.
> 
> **[text to: Mom]** We’re on our way home.
> 
> **[text to: Mom]** Just arrived.

With a sigh, she pocketed the device and gripped her blazer tighter, though she held it in a way that the fabric concealed her clenched fists. Her thoughts shifted towards transportation, to train routes, if a cab would be a safer bet, to the amount of money left in her wallet—well, she could get home. Travelling alone this late into the night wasn’t ideal, but it wouldn’t be the first time. It wouldn’t be the last either.

Most of the students already left with their families—Flash Thompson with his chauffeur, Liz Toomes with her mother, Ned Leeds with his parents and sister, the list went on—and she was just about to slip away unnoticed, only for a familiar voice to stop her. “Hey, uh, Michelle?”

She turned to see none other than Peter Parker, the escape artist himself, and a woman standing a couple feet behind him with a warm smile. His aunt, she presumed. The presence of his guardian didn’t prevent Michelle from offering a standard greeting. “What’s up, loser?”

Peter shifted his weight and glanced behind him briefly as though to ask permission first. “Do you need a ride?” His shoulders sagged and his voice wasn’t quite as lively, but after such a long day, exhaustion was to be expected. Even if he wasn’t at the Monument when everything happened, but Michelle saved that thought for later. She would have time to process and unpack everything later—after a good night’s sleep.

“I’m fine,” came her instinctive assurance. Because really, she _was_. Maybe not perfect, but okay enough. Enough to not need help.

“It’s getting late,” the woman—May, if Michelle remembered properly—spoke up, taking a step closer. “You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.” _Your parents will get worried,_ Michelle expected to hear, but the words never came. “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.”

Though she questioned why May would offer a ride to someone who just called her nephew a loser, Michelle ultimately decided that it wouldn’t hurt; if nothing else, it’d save her a little money, and she could use that money to buy more books. “If you’re sure it’s alright,” she accepted, a little reluctant.

As it turned out, Michelle’s apartment complex was somewhat on the way to where the Parkers lived. May’s smile brightened as she led the way to her car, and when Peter opened the passenger door up for Michelle, his lips quirked up politely. She raised an eyebrow. “You know I can do that myself, right?”

Without hesitation, he shut the door and took his own seat in the back. As she opened the door herself and settled in, she heard his belated mumble of, “I know, yeah, I know.” Idly, she wondered if most people felt threatened by kind gestures like that; while not a fan of the action itself, she knew he meant well. Not that it mattered in the end. She doubted he’d ever want to be friends with someone like her.

Kindness tended not to last, after all.

“Michelle, right?” May asked, and she hummed to confirm. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

Small talk. Easily one of Michelle’s least favorite activities. She shifted the position of the backpack between her feet as one shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “Read.” Guessing the follow-up question, she continued, typing out another text while she spoke. “I like murder mysteries the best. Both fiction and nonfiction.”

> **[text to: Mom]** I found a ride. See you at home.

For the most part, May didn’t appear too shocked by the information, simply nodding as she absorbed it. Perhaps she’d heard enough about the girl to expect that sort of thing—though Michelle doubted that Peter would talk about her, especially when so much of his attention was dedicated to Liz—or perhaps she wasn’t the type to judge people’s interests. “I watch true crime shows every now and then,” she attempted to relate.

“Knowing that many people who commit heinous crimes have otherwise normal lives really makes you question what you think you know about people.” For all Michelle knew, these two could be leading her back to some murder dungeon, and in a horrifying turn of events, she’d never see the light of day again. Unlikely—but it made for some interesting mental images.

Murder mysteries were messy and imperfect: full of missing pieces, clues that led to nothing, and incomplete theories. At the end of the day, everything was speculation, whether people think they knew what happened or couldn’t fathom a guess. They reflected life in that regard. Pieces came together and fell apart just as quickly. Some things made sense while others remained enigmatic.

Solved cases were too neat and tidy for her liking. In a similar vein, she found math and its perfect solutions to be quite dull. She didn’t loathe either—they just held little interest. The cleanness of them bothered her.

“You like conspiracy theories too, right?” Peter asked, stifling a yawn. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t pick up a trace of criticism in his tone. “You kept talking about them on the bus.”

That was, aside from answering Liz’s practice questions, the only time she’d spoken to anyone on the bus; the rest of the time, she kept her head buried in her book as she listened absentmindedly to the others chattering. “Of course. The government’s done plenty to warrant skepticism over the years, and questioning authority is better than blindly accepting injustice.”

And conspiracy theories were also messy. The more conflicting evidence, the more fascinating it became. Naturally, she knew not to believe every ridiculous proposition she heard, but reading and talking about them was fun regardless. Not that she often got the chance to do the latter—this was generally the point where people tuned her out or walked away. Over time, she learned to leave before other people could.

“Thinking for yourself is important.” Smiling, May glanced sideways at her passenger, who shifted in her seat. “You seem like a strong young lady. I’m glad Peter has friends like you.”

“We’re not friends,” Michelle denied.

At the same time, Peter said, “I’m glad too.”

She turned around to scowl at him, but he just smiled in return, head resting in his hand. That smile, however, soon twisted into a pout when his aunt continued. “He’s always had trouble making friends. And—”

“_May_,” he whined as he hid his face in his palm.

“—when you go through traumatic experiences like you did today, it’s important to have people you can rely on.”

In case May didn’t already know, Michelle informed her: “Neither of us were in the elevator.”

“Yes, but your classmates were in danger, and that can be just as scary,” the woman countered, and before Michelle could offer any other argument, she promptly changed the subject. “Are either of you hungry? There’s a good pizzeria down this street.” Since Peter nodded, Michelle shrugged and agreed as well. A couple minutes later, the car pulled into an empty spot, and they gathered their belongings and headed towards the restaurant.

Michelle didn’t eat out often; for the most part, she cooked her own meals, albeit she occasionally ordered takeout because sometimes, she couldn’t be bothered to put down her book for that long. Actually coming and sitting down at a restaurant was a fairly new experience, so she couldn’t help but let her curious gaze sweep the interior—though she kept up her usual disinterested expression.

Peter and May, on the other hand, seemed perfectly comfortable, easily chatting with the hostess and slipping into the booth, and Michelle sat next to May. The promise of food left Peter more animated: Michelle could tell by the way he leaned forward and eagerly skimmed the menu. As she did the same, she allowed her thoughts to wander.

She knew that Peter didn’t have many friends—the only person he spoke to regularly was Ned, after all—but it still came as an odd surprise to hear it stated so bluntly. Because sure, he stuck out as a nerd even at a school for gifted kids, he was awkward and a little shy, and he let Flash pick on him with almost no resistance, but he was still nice and polite. Definitely not the _bad_ sort of loser. The teachers loved him, and the Academic Decathlon team valued his ability to answer questions correctly.

When she first heard about his apparent Stark Internship, she half suspected the shallowest of their peers to flock to him just for name association; however, due to Flash’s insistence on it being a lie and Peter’s lack of defense, he remained a loser. While he got a little frustrated sometimes, he didn’t seem to mind the treatment overall—which piqued Michelle’s interest far more than some internship.

His behavior over the last few months was odd, between him dropping out of his other clubs and disappearing at random times, the trip to Washington being the most significant example of the latter. Michelle knew that his uncle died recently. The whispered mentions of it around the school lasted for a couple days before everyone lost interest and moved onto their own business. Just another messy fact of life.

From the couple brief glances she saw of Peter and his uncle, they appeared rather close and happy, and when the man died, Peter was devastated. Typically a rambling motormouth, he went quiet for days after the incident. Michelle vividly recalled a teacher calling on him to answer a question, only for him to rush out of the classroom—from the queasy expression on his face, she wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up puking his guts out.

That was the week she started sitting at Peter and Ned’s table. Perhaps her curiosity was a little morbid—she heard a rumor that he’d been there when his uncle died—but a smaller part of her that she usually ignored watched him out of concern. Soon enough, he started returning to his usual self, and she almost accepted that as the end of the matter.

Had it not been for his odd behavior, she might have gone back to ignoring him.

“I’ll have a slice of veggie pizza, please,” she said when the waitress asked, while Peter and May requested pepperoni to share.

Once their menus were taken away and glasses of water brought over, May turned her attention back to Michelle, warm smile ever-present despite the lack of reciprocation. “Do you have any plans for the future? College, career-wise.”

Maybe calling Midtown Tech a _school for gifted kids_ left people with the impression that the students there had twenty-step plans for achieving their life goals—which certainly wasn’t true, especially when a good number of kids got in based on their parents' money rather than their test scores. But Michelle had a basic idea, at the very least. “I want to be an investigative journalist,” she answered, the barest hint of a smile reaching her lips. “Uncover the truth and report on it.”

“That’s impressive. I’ll certainly keep an eye out for anything you publish in the future.” May continued on a brief ramble about how important it was to be informed and think critically, and Michelle half paid attention as she wondered if Peter picked up this habit from her. It wouldn’t come as a surprise. “And if you ever need a photographer,” the woman wrapped up, “Peter’s great at that.”

Though her voice remained light, there seemed to be a heavy undertone to the comment. The way Peter squirmed in his seat—well, that just confirmed it. Michelle thought back to the last time she saw him with a camera. If she remembered right, it would’ve been the field trip to OsCorp about eight months ago, as he tended to document such events. But he didn’t bring a camera this time around.

“Uh, anyway,” Peter cut in before Michelle could respond, “what—what’s the book you were reading on the bus? You looked pretty invested, and, um, May’s always looking for new stuff to read.”

If she decided that she cared enough, she might press him on the photography subject later. “_Of Human Bondage_ by W. Somerset Maugham. It’s considered one of the best books of the twentieth century.” Certainly, it was far better than what the school required them to read, and she’d voiced several complaints to her English teachers over the years. But they all shrugged and said something about the curriculum.

“I’ll add it to my list,” May promised. She and Peter continued on with small talk—somewhat awkwardly at times—with Michelle occasionally chiming in; however, unless they directly spoke to her, she stayed quiet. The two interacted like one would expect from such an obviously caring relationship, and that only left her more suspicious.

Something didn’t add up. Peter Parker was a good student, a nice person, and a loving nephew. From what Michelle knew of healthy households, she imagined his aunt would help him through whatever trauma resulted from his uncle’s death, but his recent behavior seemed more indicative of someone _without_ that support system. Dropping out of clubs, sneaking around, how exhausted and distracted he appeared some days—no, something else had to be going on with him.

The waitress brought their pizzas over with a smile, and they busied themselves with eating. Michelle didn’t realize how hungry she actually was until she took the first bite. There must be something about stressful days that left people starving—a theory supported by the fact that none of them had any food leftover by the time they finished.

Calculating how much her share of the bill would be, Michelle pulled out her wallet and sifted through her cash, only to stop when May waved a hand dismissively. “No, no, it’s my treat. Call it a victory dinner.”

“Are you sure?” Michelle’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t mind—”

“I’m absolutely sure,” the woman confirmed. “You’ve earned it.”

Rather than attempt to speak past the lump forming in her throat, Michelle settled for nodding as she put her wallet back in its place, then glanced up at Peter to see his soft—reassuring?—smile. It occurred to her in that moment that she’d spend more time observing him than she did before. For the sake of figuring out what his deal was, of course. “Thank you,” she addressed May. The sincerity in her tone surprised even her.

“You’re very welcome.” They left once the bill was paid, and the next several minutes of the car ride went by in satisfied silence punctuated by Peter dozing off in the back seat. “It’s this one, right?” May asked as she pulled up to the apartment complex, to which Michelle nodded and gathered her backpack and yellow blazer. “Good night, Michelle. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

May Parker might very well have been the first person to ever think so, but Michelle brushed the thought aside as she opened the door. “You too. And thanks for the ride.” With a glance towards Peter, who woke up at the sound of conversation, she added, “See you around, dork.”

“Yeah, see you at school,” he returned, waving his farewell.

As Michelle made her way towards the building’s entrance, she spared one look over her shoulder, expecting to see the car pull out the second she left. But they waited until she was safely inside.

She climbed the stairs and arrived at her apartment to find it—unsurprisingly—empty, yet somehow, it didn’t bother her as much as it usually did. Not because she was used to it, but instead, she found herself looking forward to the next day at school. She’d discovered an interesting mystery waiting to be unraveled, and somehow, she doubted there’d be a clean, tidy solution at the end.

And maybe, a small voice insisted, she was simply fond of life’s imperfections.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr [here](https://koolwhipped.tumblr.com/) if anyone is interested. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day! ♡


End file.
